Strawberries
by SilvPanther
Summary: Strawberries are of assorted tastes. Some are bitter, others sweet, and some have a soft inside, but a hard, cold outside. People are like strawberries. R and R dracoginny This is my first story and PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE begs on knees review.
1. Strawberrie Garden

Disclaimer: So as not to make this disclaimer lengthy, long, drawn-out, extensive, pro-longed, and…. Where was I? Oh yes, I disclaim.

A/N I AM ONE OF THOSE AUTHORS WHO DOES NOT BELIEVE THE FIFTH BOOK HAS EVER HAPPENED. In other words, I read it a long time ago and do not have the energy to read it again. Anyway this is my first fanfic, so please review and criticize, but don't be too harsh. Oh and thanks (ahead of time) to my wonderful beta Anna. Oh and just by the way (yes this is a long authors note), the next chapters should be much better and have much more action.

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Strawberries are of assorted tastes. Some are bitter, others sweet, and some have a soft inside, but a hard, cold outside. People are like strawberries.

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These were the thoughts of Ginevra Weasley, or Ginny as she was called. And the reason she was having these thoughts was a mystery even to her. She had thought that it started at the garden, but then realized that it had started long, long ago. Six years to be precise.

_Flashback_

It had been a cold winter day. Inside the Gryffindor common room the window had been open all night long (thanks to the bickering of some first years about stuffiness) and a chilly breeze was sweeping the now empty room. Everyone had gone to breakfast and Ginny supposed that she should to, but for some bizarre reason she had no desire to eat. Instead, all she wanted to do was to go outside and play (childish, she knew) in the soft snow and throw some snowballs at Harry and Ron. It really was a wonderful way to get rid of the stress and anger she had built up. She did not, however, succumb to those desires of hers, but instead went into the library.

Instead of being cold like it usually was, there was a fire burning, and she found that she was not the only one there. Perhaps it was because of Snape's long essay, or perhaps it was just fate, but Harry, Ron, and Hermione were sitting together. Ginny took one look at Harry and began to blush uncontrollably. It really wasn't a crush like everyone thought, but facing the person who had saved your life is a little overwhelming. She tried to cover it, however, telling herself she was too old to act like this.

"Hey Harry."

"Oh, hey Gin. Why aren't you at breakfast?"

"Well, I could be asking you the exact same thing," Ginny whispered softly.

However, Harry had already turned away, ignoring her like he did all the time. She told herself it was not because of her, but merely because he was older, and thought that she was immature. It still hurt, even if she tried to change the facts around. Sighing, Ginny sat in a soft, comfy seat, much like a bean bag but on a larger scale. She had a two foot long essay due in Divination tomorrow, and had not even started it. Looking around for somewhere to put her books away, she spied a small table of the side. Pulling it in front of her, she began to write.

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Draco was not having a good day today. No, not a good day _at all_. When he had woken up, he found that he had overslept. Perhaps it was just the comfort of the soft bed he was lying in, or the smoothness of the silk sheets, but his unconscious mind had ignored the persistent ringing of his alarm clock. Once he had gotten up, he ran all the way to Transfiguration, and was still late. Since this was taught by Professor McGonagall, he immediately got detention and house points taken away. Resigning, he simply muttered curses under his breath, and ignored the sneers of the Gryffindor. _The noble Gryffindor_, he thought coolly. What a noble bunch of ignorant fools. He wished he could show them how little the actually meant in the world, but he would have to wait. To carefully plan a trap. To catch the lions in a snare.

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Giggling, Ginny brought herself back into the world. Having finished her essay, she had started to think about her small strawberry garden. Having no idea why it had entered her head at such a moment in time, she let her train of thought go away, and just stared at the blue velvety tapestry on the wall. Letting her eyes wander, they stopped suddenly spying a blond figure rush past her. In a flurry of robes, his angered steel grey eyes flared and she easily understood who this was.

"Watch out _Weasley._ Wouldn't want my robes to get filthy." He glared, but immediately slid his expression of indifference into place as soon as she looked up.

Ginny stared. She knew she needed to defend herself, but found herself at a loss for words. Staring into those eyes, she found herself wondering what it would be like to have them. They seemed, at first glance, to be just grey, but then there began to emerge shimmers of light brown and dark blue swirls. It seemed if you looked enough, you could learn to read them. Lost in their expression, she struggled to get out of her trance when a cold voice awoke her.

"What are you looking at Weasley? Something you'll never have? Just because your family can't afford it, doesn't mean its right to ruin my perfectly good robes with those eyes of yours."

Draco sneered, his expression as unreadable as it had been from the very beginning. Stalking away, he didn't even glance over his shoulder to see what an impression he had made on the youngest Weasel.

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Ginny awoke quickly from her trance and tried to think of a reply quickly, but Draco had already left. Sighing, she put away her books and decided to go outside for a walk. She stood up, carefully straightening her hand-me-down robes, and started to walk outside. Her heels made a clicking noise when she walked, giving her the unwelcome impression of being the only one there. She turned to look around, feeling as though someone was watching her. No one was in view though, so she kept walking. As soon as she reached the archway, she gasped. The snow which had just started to fall two days ago now covered more then four feet. It was a struggle to walk in, but Ginny saw many students laughing and giggling. She had a unusual desire to walk over to them and join in their fun, although she knew that it was not her way to be so bold. Instead, she looked around for a place to sit, and suddenly saw a dark shadow creeping. Wondering what it was, she crept a little closer. Feeling a acute, sharp pain in the back of her head, she fell down, and knew no more.


	2. A Strange Encounter

Disclaimer: Just the usual. I disclaim.

A/N This is actually not as short as my stuff usually is (small cheer for me). Thank you **dracademented**, you made me wake up and write some more. Just you reviewing makes me want to write the story even quicker; even if it is just you reviewing  You are worth 2 million reviews in my opinion. This chapter doesn't really lead the story anywhere, but it does set things up for the next chapter. Enjoy and, as always, please review.

A Strange Encounter

Ginny began to feel the world outside herself. She sighed, and tried to open her eyes. However, they were heavy, and seemed to be stuck together. After a few more attempts, she opened then and saw that she had fallen in the snow

"Ssssoryyy pettttttt, butttt I couldn'tttt haveeee youuu seeinggg mee," A soft voice spoke.

Before she could make out who it was, they, or it, was gone. Struggling to get on her feet, she bumped into, of all people, Malfoy.

"Watch where you're going, Malfoy."

Instead of answering her, he just rushed by in a flurry of robes.

"Git," She muttered under her breath.

* * *

Draco had just gotten a letter from his father, saying that urgent business was waiting for him. As he ran out the door, he bumped into the Weasel. She muttered out a lousy attempt at a insult, but ignoring her, he ran past her. After he passed the door, he found the port key that his father had smuggled in for him, and immediately arrived in a warm building. There was a long hall, covered in paintings and with soft green carpet on the floor. At the end of the hall, there was a door, the only door. Opening it quickly, he walked into a room with a desk. His father was sitting there, looking very smug.

"Why hello Draco, my son," he practically spat.

"Why hello father," Draco said, practically leaking sarcasm.

"There is a very important business of our dearest Lord Voldermort. To make your initiation accurate, you have to perform a task. The task Our Lord has assigned you is to find out the plan of that oaf that runs your school. We must have it, Draco. If you fail you shall be promptly denounced from this family. Loyalty is hard to get, and Lord Voldermort does not give it to many."

"Yes father," Draco practically hissed.

"That is all. You may leave."

Once Draco came back to Hogwarts, he began to think. To do this would be very difficult, but he could do it. He would just have to have the help of one fiery redhead.

* * *

Ginny sat in the kitchen. Having been caught outside in the cold and staying there for many minutes unconscious, she definitely needed some hot chocolate. Going to the painting and tickling the pear, she had asked one of the house elves for it, and they had instantly scrambled up to get it.

She had thanked them and sat down, trying to rest her tired head in between her arms. Realizing that she would not get any rest like this, she sighed and proceeded up to her common room. She reached the painting, but forgot the password. Sighing for the umpteenth time that day, she leaned backwards against the cold grey stone and waited for someone to get back.

She felt something. It was not exactly something, more like someone, moving with grace and precision. But creeping, and that was the important thing. She waited for it to get closer, then turned quickly around and kicked for whatever body part she saw first. Her feet, however, were quickly caught in a gloved hand. A black gloved hand.

Her charcoal warm eyes, deceiving at first, moved slowly upwards to take in the surroundings. Creeping by that robe of black silk, on to the top of the shirt still peeping from it, green. _A Slytherin_ she thought to herself. And finally the face. The porcelain, pale, aristocratic face with the slightly upturned nose and no freckles to be seen, the face that had been her constant torment of so many years, the face that was now looking at her with those cold grey eyes that were blank but swirled and mesmerizing.

"Weasley."

A simple statement really, but so cold and piercing it shattered her heart to the core. Ginevra delicately removed her foot and placed it back on the ground. She decided to get this over with as quickly as possible, since she hated the effect he seemed to have upon her. She had already suffered much, she did not need this cold – blooded Malfoy descending like a vulture upon her.

"What do you need Malfoy?" she calmly said, but adding a tone of utter disgust to her words."

"I need to speak with you."

"Why would you want to speak to the "filthy muggle lover like me", Malfoy?"

Draco looked her over coldly. He tried to look behind her mask, since he always was able to. Except now, it seemed. This both perplexed and puzzled him. Had she mastered the art of masking? Shaking his head slightly to clear his head, he looked her over again. She was not the most revolting girl in school.

She was not slim, but was not pudgy either. She seemed to have many muscles in her arms, and she seemed to have a good enough taste in clothes, even with the little money that she had. She started to tap her pointed foot. Slightly startled but not showing any sign of it, he looked up again and saw her waiting for an answer.

"Stop wasting my time Weasley. Either come talk with me, or get out of the way."

Seeing as she did not answer, he quickly walked away before she could even ask him to wait. He did not need to ruin his reputation just to talk to her. He did not need to dirty the Malfoy name. Remembering that the she enjoyed the small strawberry patch that she had grown, or tended to, he began to hatch a plan. A plan that couldn't go wrong.


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